


Falling is Flying, If You Look at It Right

by Lywinis



Series: One Shots -- Capsicoul [12]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things in life are ineffable. In Steven's case, it's angel watching. Just one, in particular -- he hasn't gotten a craving. He thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling is Flying, If You Look at It Right

Steven could not have told you when he started watching the angel – well, he could have, but that would be cheating. You see, Steven was a demon, and that meant his work was busy, busier than anything you could imagine.

He spent his days creating minor fallacies in school materials, such as making two plus two equal three instead of four on standardized tests. He also spent time disturbing the peace by sending cats leaping over cars at three am to wake men who worked early in the morning, leaving them irritable and angry over their morning coffee.

So, as you can see, he was incredibly busy.

No time for angel watching, at least not this millennia.

Last millennia, however, was a whole other story. The angel was dark, just quiet and just subdued enough to confuse Steven into thinking that he might Fall, just as he had. He carried a flaming sword, and was far more protective of it than that Aziraphale had been, Steven thought with a snort. He was not a guardian of prophecy as that troublesome angel had been, and Steven was in the wrong part of the world to run afoul of either him or his curious life-mate Crawly. It didn’t stop him from watching the angel (and he would set fire to you if you called the angel ‘his’) flit about his business, all stern precision and sticking with the rules that had been set.

A note about demons, if you will.

They enjoyed corruption just as much as anyone. Living fast, dying young, listening to rock and roll music, these are all things that appeal to most demons.

Steven, however, didn’t fit the descriptor of a demon very much, at least as we know it. He had Fallen from grace, yes, but it hadn’t changed much about him. He was a large, strapping demon, with large, broad shoulders, a wide chest, a narrow waist, and long legs. Bright blue eyes and wavy blond hair made him look much more angelic than his counterparts. The only real indicator that he had Fallen (and while that ponce Crawly could say he sauntered vaguely downward, Steven had rocketed Down with a brilliant blaze of white light that tore his feathers asunder) was the scaly leather of broad black wings that hooded over his head while he was thinking.

While the incubi would have murdered to have enfolded them in their ranks, Steven reasoned that petty corruption did more in the long run than it did with outright temptation. Sure, the incubi and the succubae nailed big targets, (and puns were one of Steven’s specialities, too) but Steven had managed to incite the sin of Wrath in over seventy-eight targets with a simple traffic jam.

In the scheme of things, he was doing all right, he thought.

So, perhaps there was time to watch the angel after all, he reasoned.

Even before he had Fallen, he had never spoken to this particular angel. This one, Phillip, was hard as the steel of the sword he carried. Steven knew he viewed rulebreaking as something to be frowned on, and avoided.

Still, Steven thought he was a good, hardworking angel. He had fine wings of sleek, well cared for feathers, brushing along behind him. Phillip was a guardian angel of sorts, one who watched over people. He pushed them out of the way of oncoming danger, giving them that rush of adrenaline that was just enough to make them consider their life choices and change their ways.

Some days Steven tried not to dwell on the fact that he approved of the angel. Other days he thought about it a lot, even as he glued a coin to the sidewalk to frustrate passersby.

He still hadn’t spoken to him, but he knew the angel knew he was there. And he knew the angel knew that he knew. And if he continued along that line of thinking, his head would implode, and that would be bad for his quota.

He fluttered down to the rooftop and watched the angel yank a woman out of the path of a speeding bus. He really did have fine wings, Steven thought. This was, in fact, the reason why he was thinking of sending a man driving down the road with his bass thumping as he played a dubstep song at maximum volume, but for now, he was content to watch the smaller angel step into an alleyway and heard the brush of feathers as Phillip took off, landing beside him.

“What do you want, demon?” Phillip asked. His feathers ruffled, and Steven thought that grooming those wings would be a very nice way to spend the afternoon. His own wings hooded, and he smiled, something he hardly ever meant.

“The same thing I always want. Minor chaos if I can get it, major chaos if I have a good breakfast in me beforehand.” The angel looked unamused, and his feathers ruffled further.

“I meant, why are you following me?” he asked. Phillip cut sharp and straight to the point. Steven could appreciate that. “If you’re looking for a fight…”

“And if I’m not?” he asked, his wings hooding further. “I don’t do what anyone tells me to do.”

“I know, that’s why you Fell.” Phillip looked grouchy that Steven had made him admit to knowing who he was; Steven was just surprised he knew him at all. “The whole garrison looked up to you, until you did. Now, I don’t have anyone to look up to.”

“That happens,” Steven said. “They like to call it the ineffability of the universe.”

“So, why are you following me?” he asked. Steven smiled.

“Because I like your wings. Much shinier than mine are now.”

“Bloody demons. Never a straight answer,” Phillip grumbled. “Go back to wherever you came from. Nothing here for you anymore. Shoo.”

“Oh, but there’s plenty for me here.” Steven’s smile was wide, and almost predatory. He could feel the shiver of Phillip’s wings. “There is an angel here, one who might come with me, if I asked.”  
  
“I’ll not Fall,” Phillip said, fixing him with a glare.

“Never said you had to. I just wondered aloud if you would come with me.” Steven’s eyebrows rose. “What could it hurt? I’m sure you could smite me, if you chose.”

“I can and will,” Phillip said.

“Then what’s the problem?” Steven asked. “Come and have lunch with me.”

“I am not supposed to truck with demonkind. Just like I am sure that you aren’t supposed to truck with angels.”

“Come now, Phillip, am I really that scary?” he asked.

Phillip stopped. “You know my name?”

“Of course I do,” Steven said. He was perplexed, looking down at the shorter angel. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve never spoken with me before.”

“Then it’s time to change that.”

“I shouldn’t.” Something wavered, and Steven almost hooted in triumph when Phillip took an uncertain step toward him.

“All I’m asking for is lunch.” Steven smiled big and wide and serious, which he knew made his eyes sparkle. Phillip looked as though Steven asked him for something more precious, like a piece of his Grace. He also didn’t look inclined to refuse him, which delighted the demon.

* * *

Steven had been right, the angel’s wings were as he’d remembered. Phillip shivered as Steven brushed his hand along them, warm and sleek and soft. Phillip’s eyes had darkened, and it had been easy to lean down and press warmer than normal lips to the angel’s. The tingle wasn’t discomfort, but it was interesting, and made Steven lean back and lick his lips in contemplation.

“I have to go,” Phillip said.

“Already?” Steven asked, his wings drooping.

“I have things to attend to, and I’ve entertained your company for far too long as it is.” Phillip said. “Foolishness.”

Steven watched the angel go, pleased when Phillip paused to glance back and touch his lips, as if unsure it had happened at all.

He wondered when it had become important that Phillip want it, too.

* * *

Steven pressed his lips between Phillip’s shoulder blades. The angel let out a low cry and shuddered, even as Steven nuzzled at the point where his wings rose from his shoulders. The soft, feathery wings flexed outward, and Steven chuckled, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses around them, sucking welts against them and marking the skin.

“S-stop,” Phillip said, his commanding voice rendered into a wobble as Steven’s hand snaked around his waist, kneading at his hip.

“Why?” Steven asked.

“We shouldn’t,” Phillip said.

“We shouldn’t?” Steven asked. “Why?”

“We’ll be punished. We’re going against the natural order,” Phillip said.

“Angel, you worry too much,” Steven said, turning Phillip and pulling him close, hooding his wings around his angel and keeping the world out. Phillip tilted his head up and Steven bent to nose at the line of his jaw. “If we were going to be in trouble, it would have been before now.”

Steven pressed his angel to the bed, covering them with his wings and blocking out the sounds of a thunderstorm rumbling in the distance.

* * *

Phillip’s car, Lola, was a beauty, if you didn’t mind that every CD you left in the vehicle slowly turned into a 1940’s big band compilation album. Steven found he didn’t mind.

* * *

They came for Phillip first. The clatter of the door exploding inward roused Steven from his sleep, but the wall of feathers that erupted before him meant that he could not see the angels that collected his Phillip. He roared, but he was drowned out by the voice of Metatron; he fought, but he was pinned to the wall by the force of the Grace that kept the one thing Phillip loved above all else safe.

Seventeen agonizing seconds later, and he was alone in the apartment that they’d shared over the course of half a century. He dropped to his knees, collecting a pinion feather. When they came for him, He didn’t even fight them, just tucked the feather close to his chest.

“I told you Crawly was a bad influence, and not in the way we want,” hissed one to the other. They dragged him back for repurposing.

* * *

The Apocalypse was not all it was cracked up to be. Steven would be the first to admit that the armies of the damned were outnumbered. It was ineffable. It was unwritten, unknowable, but the outcome was already pre-determined. Hell would lose. It was written.

He didn’t want to be here at all. He wanted to be home, with his bed and his angel.

Steven caught the sight of blue-grey eyes fixing him with a fierce glare, and his breath hitched. He lifted himself up into the air, and Phillip dove to meet him.

He clashed with his angel, blood raining down on the battlefield, and took the sword in his side so that he could pull Phillip close and kiss him senseless, his wings wrapping around Phillip as they dove into the boiling sea of blood that was conjured. They hit with a thunderclap, a bolt that tore across the sky and rent it asunder.

Both were reported missing to their respected sides. Neither noticed the Apocalypse was called off by their much more rebellious counterparts.

Some things, it turned out, weren’t ineffable at all.

* * *

Steven woke, draped in the warmth of feathers. He rolled to his side, and saw his angel looking at him. Phillip was studying him, his blue-grey eyes darkened to slate in their intensity. Steven pulled him closer, burying his nose in the warmth of Phillip’s skin, their wings meeting.

“You study me as though you have never seen me before, Angel,” he murmured.

“I stabbed you,” Phillip said. “I hurt you.”

“Shh,” Steven said, looking down at the still seeping bandage on his side. “It’ll mend.”

“And if I had killed you?” Phillip asked.

“You didn’t,” Steven said, nosing against his jaw and cupping his face. “It will mend, Angel.”

“Steven,” Phillip said, sounding completely exasperated.

“Phillip,” Steven replied, kissing him senseless.

His angel couldn’t really find a way to argue with that. Steven found that the arrangement worked out quite well for them both.

**Author's Note:**

> I started a Good Omens AU a long, long time ago, but put it on the back burner. When someone requested an Angel/Devil AU for Capsicoulets, I couldn't resist.
> 
> http://capsicoulets.tumblr.com/
> 
> Feel free to prompt me!


End file.
